I Found
by octi
Summary: When demons start targeting two girls, Sam and Dean figure out there might be a bit more to the two than meets the eye.
1. Prologue

I Found by: therealandromeda

PROLOGUE HELL, CURRENT DAY

"My lord?"

Crowley raised a brow, flicking his wrist in an impatient manner as another demon slipped into the throne room. He hadn't bothered to learn this one's name- all of his underlings were disposable, but the newer ones especially so. Things were getting heated on the mortal plane, to put it mildly, and demons were getting snuffed at a faster rate than ever. While he might not know this one's name, he wasn't completely oblivious to the obvious discomfort coming off of him, and Crowley sat up a little taller on his throne. He enjoyed when his subjects feared him, but this wasn't his doing. Suddenly his interest was a little more piqued. "Well?" He prodded. His curiosity would only last so long before irritation took over, and he didn't miss the look that was shared between the other two demons running his court for the day. They knew what he did to demons that interrupted unwarranted.

"My lord," the demon started again, licking his lips nervously. Crowley had to wonder what this timid little creature had done to end up down here. "Y-you asked me to notify you if there were any… changes."

The silence from the King of Hell filled the room, and none of the other demons dared to move, other than to flick their eyes back and forth from their king to the messenger. "And?" Crowley pushed, his tone curt. If the demon didn't tell him what he wanted to know in the next second, he would pull his entrails out from his nose and go see to the assignment himself, which must have shown in his dark eyes because the words spilled out of the man in a flood.

"The flowers started to bloom, my lord. All of them at once, I blinked and they were there." He shifted under the intense look Crowley was giving him, glancing at the other demons for help, but they wisely left him to his fate.

The flowers were blooming? Crowley had long hoped this day would come, but why now? It had been more than twenty years since they had died, did this mean…? No. There was no time for hopes now, not until he had more answers. The king rose from his throne, adjusting his coat as he did so. "Court is over for the day," he snapped at the other two. "Daddy has some business to attend to, and you," he strode to his messenger, his expression hard to read. "You are going to help me."

Author's Note: Thank you for reading my story! Any reviews positive/negative/neutral are much appreciated! More chapters to come soon. 


	2. Chapter One: Finley

Finley felt her phone buzz in her pocket, unaccompanied by the usual cheerful chimes that came from receiving a text message. She had turned the sound off that morning when it kept going off and pulling her from her sleep, and she was willing to bet the fifteen dollars and sixty two cents in her bank account that the same person who had been bothering her then was doing so now.

The heels of her ankle boots clicked on the pavement, and she jostled her bag further up her shoulder. She was late. Finn had never been great with time management, but she probably should have been paying more attention, given who her meeting was with, but on second thought, maybe not. He had been even more of a pain in the ass than usual lately, so perhaps she should return the favor. Pausing at the streetlight, she fished into the pocket of her jacket and whipped out the old pink Motorola, flipping it open. She ignored the latest text with merely a glance, finding the third previous instead, and checked it against the building number. Satisfied, she snapped the phone closed and pushed the door open, glancing up at the bell that rang. Of course demons would have infiltrated the DMV- it was practically hell on earth anyway.

She didn't bother calling out, knowing it was only a matter of time until her summoner showed himself in some grand fashion or other.

"Hello, darling." Right on cue, the king of hell appeared in her line of vision, giving her a once over. He never changed- same salt and pepper scruff, same stylish, dark clothes, only today, his lapel held a violet flower, an addition that would normally amuse her if she were in a better mood. Instead, she felt her lip curl in annoyance and instead busied herself tossing her bag on the counter. "You're late."

"Werewolf broke my watch," she replied with fake sorrow, pulling her lips down in a pout. Crowley wasn't amused, she could see- he didn't like when people kept him waiting. She found that interesting about him, over all the other demons she had had the misfortune to meet, Crowley was a stickler for rules and regulations. The more details, the better, and under his reign, the demons had fallen into a strange sort of corporate heirarchy. It was almost laughable, if they weren't so busy fucking up everyone else's lives while they were at it, including her own. Before he could make a witty response, she cut him off. "Aren't there any lights in this damn place?"

Crowley gave a soft exhalation of impatience, but the lights clicked on with a mechanical hum, and he blinked at her, his nose scrunching in distaste. "What did you do to your hair?" Finn leveled him with a dirty look, automatically raking her fingers through the bubblegum strands. "I don't think you called me here to talk about me," she sniped. Being at the beck and call of a demon was annoying enough without having him question her life choices, even though she had to admit the look he was giving her was the same as half the people she met on the street. "What do you want?"

"I want you to go to Provo, Utah." He shifted his weight to the balls of his feet and clasped his hands in front of himself, expecting an argument.

"What's in Utah?" Of all the "important business" Finn had expected, nothing she had come up with was even remotely related to what had to amount to one of the least exciting states in the country.

"Mormons, mostly," Crowley smirked. Finn had half a mind to pull out her gun and shoot him, not because it would do anything lasting, but because it would feel quite satisfying. Seeing she wasn't going to rise to his bait, he continued. "I need you to find someone for me."

"Find someone? That's not really my thing- or is the 'someone' a 'something'?"She had only been hunting for about six years, but she had a pretty good track record on her kills. That said, it was a bit strange that Crowley's big favor was a mundane investigation job, and even weirder that he wasn't entrusting it to one of his myriad of demon underlings. There was something he wasn't telling her, and she folded her arms stubbornly, leaning back against the counter. "Would you care to tell me what this is really about?"

Crowley reached into the inner pocket of his coat, producing a picture that he held out to her. He ignored her questions, but she was aware of the intense way he was watching her face as she took it from his hand to get a closer look. The photo was one of those new Polaroid pictures, the whole thing nearly smaller than her hand, and the subject was a woman that Finn had never seen before. "What's she to you?" She flipped over the polaroid, taking in the spidery handwriting that announced "Sarah Klein, March 3rd," before flipping it to once more look at the woman. She was a brunette, pretty in a mousy sort of way, but her smile was radiant in a way that made her beautiful, despite her freckles and the slight crookedness of her bottom teeth. All in all, she looked like any other pretty woman on the street, someone you might think about for a moment or two and then forget completely, but certainly not someone that the King of Hell should be concerned with.

"So many questions tonight," he mused, fully aware that his lack of answers was irritating her. Finn was inquisitive by nature, constantly asking anything and everything that came to her mind, and Crowley loved to use it against her as bait. "What I need with Miss Klein is none of your business. I need you to find her, and I need you to do it now. Do you understand?" While his demeanor was still somewhat jovial, she could hear the edge to his voice, that slight flicker of demonic ire starting to grow. Whoever this woman was, Finn had little doubt that she should fear for her life.

"I understand," she shrugged, scuffing at the filthy laminated floor with the toe of her boot. "But clearly you've forgotten that not all of us can teleport. Provo is what, six hundred miles away?"

"Then I suggest you get moving. You're losing time."

Finn pushed herself away from the counter, frustration causing her face to flush. Crowley liked his cat and mouse games, and usually Finn was up for the verbal tete a tete that went with it, but this smelled foul even for her questionable morals. Sarah Klein looked more like someone's PTO mom or church choir soprano, not someone who dealt with demons in between dinner party courses. Whatever Crowley was sending her into, Finn was becoming more and more certain she didn't want a part in it, eternal debt or not. "You can't just send me off on a wild goose chase with nothing to go on! Who is she? Where the hell am I supposed to find her? Better yet, why do you need me to do it when you have plenty of demons that can find her a lot faster than I can?"

Something in Crowley's expression changed for a fraction of a second, smoothing back just as quickly to his normal mask of slight disinterest. He was getting annoyed with her, she could tell, but it was something else, something she couldn't place and had never seen on him before, and Finn didn't know whether to be scared or intrigued. "My demons have other concerns," he answered dismissively. "And as for the rest, figure it out. I want to know the minute you find her, and not a second later."

"Why?" She wasn't going to let it go, not until he answered her- but Crowley had other ideas. The wind rushed out of her as she was slammed backwards into counter, and she collapsed to the floor, trying to catch her breath.

"Enough bloody questions!" He snarled at her. "You will find Sarah Klein, and when you do, you will notify me! I don't think I need to remind you what happens when you waste my time, Finley!"

She hissed out a breath, but he was already gone, the warning still ringing in her ears. She knew the threat wasn't empty, and several minutes later, when she was finally able to stand and rub a hand tenderly over her lower back, she had already resigned herself: she was going to Provo. She just hoped that Sarah Klein was nowhere to be found, for her sake.


	3. Chapter Two: Finley

CHAPTER TWO: FINLEY JULY

One hand held her burger while the other poked at her phone, leaving a greasy smear on the screen. "No new messages," it mocked her, though she couldn't claim to be surprised. After the last text two days previous telling her to bring back Sarah Klein at any cost short of the woman's life, and another telling her to be discreet about it, Crowley had refused to answer any of her twenty-seven follow up texts. Finn knew she should probably cool it, given that her situation with the King of Hell was a bit precarious, but it irked her that he wanted her to jump through any and all hoops he could think of without even an inkling as to why. She should have expected it, given the source, but even for Crowley this was surprisingly tight lipped. Just what the hell was so special about Sarah Klein, anyway?

"That's the fourth demon this week, Sam."

That was a word you didn't hear every day, and Finn paused in her chewing to listen harder. The other man said something she didn't catch, and she cursed the other people blissfully chatting over their own lunches. Had her own chair not been so close to his, she probably never would have heard the first man. There was always a chance that the word "demon" was being thrown around metaphorically, but Finn doubted that- though it did raise some new questions about her own "mission." The demons, for the most part, answered to Crowley. If he had sent his henchmen to Utah to look for Sarah Klein as well, then what did he need her for? A demon was a match for any run of the mill human even on their worst days, so it should have been an easy open and close case. Unless Sarah Klein wasn't a human, but if that were so, then what was she?

"You still think its related to the Klein case?"

You've got to be fucking kidding me. Finn's head snapped up so fast she dripped BBQ sauce on her pants, just inches from where she had smeared toothpaste on them that morning. Surely Crowley hadn't sent another errand bitch out to find the woman, so what was the likelihood that someone else was also looking for this target?

"You don't? A car skids off a mountain pass on a perfectly clear day, leaving behind only one survivor, who by the way was quoted to be ranting about several people standing in the middle of the road?" The speaker was a tall man, with shaggy dark hair and the sort of looks that Finn would describe as cute, but wouldn't be her first pick for night's end. He was typing on a silver laptop, fortunately not noticing that she was watching. She glanced toward the other man, but his back was to her, and she wouldn't have been able to turn without being obvious about eavesdropping. Reluctantly, she tore her gaze away and picked up a wet wipe packet, ripping it open and dabbing it on the fresh stain on her pants.

"I don't know. You heard the nurse at the hospital- Sarah was in shock, she just lost her family. She could have been ranting about a herd of hippos in the road for all the sense she was making, and apparently she's been going to therapy for a few months for 'visions' anyway. I mean yeah, it's weird that demons seem to be vacationing in Utah, but I'm not so sure this is related."

"I just wish we could track her down and talk to her, maybe make a little more sense out of all of this. I just… have this feeling that the two are related."

"Yeah, maybe, but why are demons looking for a botany student? Not exactly the holy roller of Satanic worshippers, botanists. Besides, you saw how well that went- I have a bruise from that shotgun barrel her mother shoved me with." He raised a burger to his mouth and took a big bite out of it, a few pieces of lettuce falling to the tabletop.

Why indeed? Finley thought wryly. She tossed the wipe onto her half empty plate, frowning at the wet patch before glancing back at the men. Her appetite, so ravenous before, had abandoned her completely. Apparently Crowley had tried to obtain the woman through his demons, but something had stopped them. What?

"I don't know, but I do know how we might be able to talk to her. Look at this: the funerals for her husband and son are tomorrow." He flipped the laptop around, showing it to his companion. Finn shifted in her seat, trying her best to read the tiny font and not succeeding, but she could see the words "Kinner Funeral Home" plastered across the top in what appeared to be Edwardian Script. "You want to crash her family's funeral?" The man's distaste was evident- Finley didn't even have to be able to see him to understand that much, it was in every syllable.

"Not really, but it may be the only chance we get with her mother guarding her. We can sneak in, pose as mourners, and hopefully catch her alone. It's not the best plan, but it's the only one we've got right now." Frustration and impatience were etched on the speaker's face as he pushed a fry around his plate without moving to bring it to his mouth.

"That seems a little low, even for us. Besides, what if her mom sees us? I think she was pretty serious about that 'come near my daughter and I'll shoot you' thing. I don't really care to die again, Sammy."

Whatever retort the man named Sam had for that died on his lips, and he made a jerking motion with his head in her direction. "Dean." His companion turned around, and Finn fumbled desperately for anything to say that might salvage the situation, hoping to make her eavesdropping less obvious, but she came up with nothing. Her job wasn't the type that usually yielded competition, and she hadn't been warned that there would be any here. She shoved her hand in her pocket and fumbled for the crumpled bills she had put there that morning, moving to push herself out of her chair- only to find herself chest to chest with the man she couldn't see previously, and what a chest it was. Finn tilted her head back to get a good look at him, which was quite the task given he was over a foot taller. She felt like a child next to him, and not for the first time, cursed her petite frame for not being more imposing.

"Do you like to eavesdrop on private conversations, Barbie?" Dean's tone was conversational, but the look of mistrust he was giving her was anything but. Sam was behind her, keeping her from an escape, which left one of two options, as far as she was concerned- screaming and making a scene, causing problems for them but herself as well, or complying until she could get away. Given how many times Crowley had stressed haste, it appeared that Finn would be taking option B. She had seen up close what happened to the people that kept Crowley waiting too long.

"Sometimes. I was more interested in the… scenery." She smiled prettily up at him, but his expression didn't change. It wasn't the right time, but she couldn't help but notice just how damn gorgeous this man was, and had she not had the feeling he was about to attack her, she would have reached up to run a finger over his sharp cheekbones playfully. Finn's self-interest in survival was only slightly stronger than her libido, however, and she glanced once more at the door. "Speaking of, I can explain everything if we can just take this somewhere more private?" It was a lie, but stalling for time until she came up with a plan was the best thing she could think of. Hell, maybe one of Crowley's demons would be outside if they were truly as plentiful as these two claimed, but she doubted it. Her luck had never been that good, and the demons held no interest in her, she was forbidden fruit.

"What a great idea," Dean said sarcastically, taking her wrist as Sam led the way outside. No one paid them any attention, no doubt thinking they knew one another, and Finn was once more struck by how oblivious humans could be. They had barely made it into the parking lot before Finn was struck in the face with water, and she spluttered in surprise, shaking her head.

"Well, she's not a demon," Sam stated, putting the empty water bottle back into the pocket of his jacket.

Finn glared at him, pushing wet strands of hair out of her eyes. "No shit!"

"Still doesn't explain why she's eavesdropping on us. Hear something interesting?" Dean leaned back against a classic Impala, watching her every move. Finn raised her brow, her silence sullen. He wanted to throw Holy Water on her and then demand answers? Good luck with that. "Silent now? You were so willing to 'explain' a minute ago." "Yeah, before you gave me a shower. What the fuck?"

"I suggest you start talking." Sam's voice was gentler than Dean's, but still brooked no argument. Finn turned her glare on him instead. "You were very interested when we started talking about Sarah Klein. Why? Do you know her?"

"No." There was no use lying on that front. They would find out the minute their questions got any deeper than "who is she to you?" "Are you two crazy? Don't you think that anyone is going to be looking at you strange for talking about demons and funeral crashing in public?" She used the hem of her shirt to mop the last of the water from her face, showing off her pierced navel. She was mildly sorry to see that Dean's attention didn't waver from her face, like a dog on point.

"I don't buy it. Most people, when they think someone is crazy, don't nearly fall out of their chair trying to get a look." She had to give it to him, Sam was observant. It was quite annoying, but she supposed that was how he had survived this long. The hunting world wasn't one that was very big on second chances, and for him to speak so casually of demons definitely told her he was a hunter since he obviously wasn't a priest. "Something we said got your interest. You're not a demon, so what was it?"

She folded her hands over her chest, looking between the two men. Inside her pocket, her phone buzzed, and she groaned inwardly. Only one person had her number, and trust him to find now an excellent time to answer her. "If I answer you, you return the favor?"

"This isn't a negotiation. Get talking," Dean ignored the look Sam gave him. Finn wondered whether he was always this irritable, or if she was a special case that brought it out in him.

"Fine. I'm a demon hunter." Oh, what a lie. She was sure if Crowley could hear her now, he would nearly piss himself laughing. "My name is Finley Morris, I'm a Leo and I detest long walks on the beach, happy now?"

"What do you know about Sarah Klein?"

"About as much as you do, honestly." At least that wasn't a lie. "For what it's worth, I do think there's some credibility to your belief that she's tied up in the sudden demon appearances here, but I haven't seen her or talked to her. Hell, I just got here a few hours ago myself." Dean was still looking skeptical, but she could see Sam at least partially believed her, and she sighed more out of relief than exasperation. "What? Do you want to frisk me or something?" She raised a brow at Dean, who glanced at Sam before shaking his head slightly. "I think the least you can do is tell me who you two are after kidnapping me from a perfectly good lunch."

"I'm Sam Winchester," the taller man stated, holding out his hand to shake hers. "This is my brother, Dean. Sorry about that, it's been a rough few days."

The Winchesters? Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fucking hell fuck. Finn didn't know whether to be in awe or vaguely sick. Everyone who hunted anything knew who the Winchesters were, but that was a double edged sword as well. A case the Winchesters were on could hardly be called discreet, and it definitely made her anticipated Houdini act with her target all the more difficult. "If 'a rough few days' can lead to kidnapping, I'd hate to see what a good day brings," she joked, forcing herself to stay calm. Her phone buzzed again, not helping the situation. "If you two want to give me a few hours to get settled and find something a little more appropriate to wear, I'll tag along with you to the funeral home. Before you object," she nodded to Dean, "I'm going either way. I just figure since we're all looking into the same case, we should work together. More eyes, you know?" She pulled her bike key out of her pocket, the goldfish keychain winking in the sunlight. "I'll meet you here six- we can work out our game plan then." She turned on heel before either of them could respond, the gravel crunching under her boots as she walked away. Part of her figured they wouldn't turn up that night, but that was inconsequential. Neither of them followed her, and that was all that mattered. They might not trust her, but they weren't in her way for the moment, and they had given her her first lead on Sarah Klein. It wasn't the best case she had ever worked, but it was a start, and as she swung a leg over her bike, Finley whistled to herself cheerfully. Time to find some new clothes, a hotel, and to see what Crowley had to say for himself.


End file.
